Peter no more
by gemini in tauro
Summary: [Post Season 4] Peter wakes one day having no recount of the last thing he did. He knew he was going to attend Midtown, then why was he in some weird room made of metal? Why was Flash being good with him? What where all these costumes for? Spider incident? Apparently, Mr Osborn will be the only one able to help him, along with his best friend and personal bully.
1. Inside a metal-made room

Peter winced at the sound his alarm made at six sharp.

He grimaced, then tried to turn off the alarm; when that didn't work he gave up and stood from his bed. He did his bed without really thinking it. Then, he sighed, he was really tired, and for some reason his muscles felt sore. He covered his mouth with one of his hands and walked towards the bathroom, then, he splashed water against his faced and looked at his reflection staring at him. After a few seconds of just looking at it death in the eye, he realised he looked a few years older. Wasn't he just past Elementary? What was happening? He watched the rest of the bathroom. It looked luxurious, but rather plain for him. That's when he took notice of something else.

 _Where the heck was he?_

He got out of the bathroom, and then glanced at the room. It was all made of metal, with the exceptions being his bed, and the nightstand. The walls were around ten feet tall, something he kind of thanked.

He was definitively sure he wasn't at home. Was this some camp? Was he at Oscorp? He remembered Harry telling him something about them having rooms exactly like this one. But he barely paid attention to him. Now he wished he hadn't. Somehow, this place felt strangely familiar, but he couldn't decipher why. Just then he realised he also was a bit taller than the last time he measured himself.

Peter looked around, hoping for a door. He finally reached it and he was surprised it actually opened itself. Before he could take a step further, a black-suited person appeared in front of him.

'Yo, Spidey. Ready to train?' the other asked, and when Peter didn't answer his mask apparently removed itself, revealing a pale face, blonde hair, and a somehow taken aback Flash Thompson. 'Why aren't in your costume already? This isn't like you.'

Peter kept staring at him. 'Flash? Flash… Thompson?' he asked, unsure. He remembered his name, what with him being the most popular at School (who wouldn't remember that, though?) and him being his personal bully. The blonde was surprised by his reaction. He laughed a little.

'Who else would I be? Tony Stark?' Peter blinked several times, not getting the apparently really laughable joke. Why would Tony Stark enter in his apparent room? To play videogames? He really doubted so.

'I… don't get it.'

Then something seemed to sink into Flash. 'What do you… mean with that?'

'The joke. You.' It only made Flash more worried.

'What with me?'

'You in a costume, you not trying to beat me, you not being appalled by this strange-looking room where I guess I slept?' Flash raised his hands in a surrendering manner.

'Hey, hey don't look at me like that. You know I don't beat you anymore, also… this is your room.' He seemed hesitant with his answer so he coughed a little to make it a little less awkward. 'Yes, I know, it doesn't really have _that_ much of decoration, but you said it was OK always and since it was only for you. I also got one, remember?'

'…not really, no.'

Flash's face seemed to illuminate for a second. 'Wait, what's the last thing you remember?'

'Entering into Midtown. Yesterday Uncle Ben brought me the letter that said I was in, and we celebrated with a cake and… some experiments.' Flash grimaced at the mention of his uncle, and his really ripped memory.

'That's really the last thing you remember? Are you sure of it?'

Peter looked at him like he had grown a second head. 'Yeah, I remember it because it happened yesterday. Unless I am dreaming right this moment about a nice Flash who doesn't try to bully me. This actually makes sense, I once dreamt of a room made of metal and my brain remembered said dream and just recreated. I find no other explanation to it!'

Flash seemed sad by this, but also toughtful. Peter barely remembered his bully thinking into something that wasn't sports. Or girls, for that matter.

'This isn't a dream… is it?' he asked, cautiously.

Flash shook his head. 'I think you ought to see Connors. He might have the answers we both are looking for. Come with me, I'll lead the way.'

Even though his voice was demanding (and he seemed really grown up since the last time he's seen him), he could notice that his voice also sounded repentantly soft and worried. Peter felt something warm in his chest, and took in mind that whatever happened between them, actually made them friends (Flash looked like they were friends, but he couldn't be a hundred percent sure on that matter.), he could get used to this feeling. At least the not-being-beaten-and-cloistered-into-a-locker part. The friendly Flash part… it seemed too good to be true, so he'd stay cautious for a few hours.

'Hey Pete, what's going to be in today's class?' Asked a semi familiar voice from the other side of the hallway. He looked at it and he was grateful he somehow recognised the face of Harry Osborn, even if it was grown up like the rest of them. He doubted a few seconds trying to remember the schedule of Midtown, something he apparently forgot.

'I think it was double hour of Maths, an hour of Physics, two of Literature separated by the homeroom hour and that was it.' He answered, forcing himself to remember his schedule with all his might. Why couldn't he remember it?

It didn't look like the answer Harry was looking for. After some seconds staring dumbfounded at him, his best friend laughed himself to tears and then stared at him like he had told the best of jokes. 'Talking serious, Pete, what's there to be?'

'Ben's supposed to guide the class today. If you wish so, you can ask him what the topic is beforehand, but it will be by your own risk, Osborn.' That seemed to sink into Harry, and he looked mildly worried. Peter raised a brow at this and looked confused at Flash.

'Why would he be scared of Uncle Ben?' then he realised something. 'Why you talk so familiarly of Uncle Ben?' By the looks of Harry, it was positive neither of them talked of his uncle. It would be stupid to think that his uncle was the only Ben in the world. But that was the only explanation he found for him to lead a class he was supposed to take with Harry? Maybe he discussed the topics with his uncle and helped him with the planning of the day to day classes?

'Agent Venom… what's going on with Peter?' asked cautiously Harry after surpassing the initial shock of his best friend's questions. Wait, Agent Venom? Who was that? Flash shook his head.

'I'm not entirely sure myself, but he apparently cannot remember anything after being admitted into Midtown. I'm taking him to Connors' for him to check on him what happened. Go to the classroom, the classes are to start in a few minutes, and you know Scarlet isn't the most patient of us, so I tell you to go now. If you happen to catch sight of Fury, tell him he is needed with Connors.'

Harry nodded and went to what he was told to do, surprising Peter an awful lot. Surprising him more when he said 'Get better, buddy' and sprinting towards another alley. He stared at the place, and belatedly noticed Flash started to walk again too. He sprinted to get to his side, and then he looked surprised at the other. Flash raised an eyebrow at the apparent attention he was receiving, but didn't comment on it. Peter decided to ask him, after all Flash seemed willing to answer whatever he asked.

'He obeyed you.'

'He's supposed to, I'm his superior.'

'Superior?'

'I'm a graduate, he's a student. As simple as that.'

It had sense in it, but… Flash graduating before Harry? Maybe it explained why the costume, or Harry asking them about the classes and Flash knowing what was going on. Then another question bubbled in his head.

'Am I a graduate?' Flash seemed to know more about him than himself, so he supposed better ask him.

'You're not just that. But yeah, basically.'

'Harry said something about classes, then I suppose I am a teacher. What do I teach? Harry was never one for physics, or any kind of science, for that matter.'

Flash seemed troubled by this. If he was having some episode of selective amnesia (his second theory of the day), he knew that he wasn't supposed to be told, but he was just _curious_ why he had so many drastic changes in his life he couldn't help it. Flash kept on walking, not even bothering to remember he had been asked a question. Peter wouldn't blame him, this was positively awkward, especially for him that remembered everything and Peter that he didn't know anything at all from a past he was supposed to have.

'There's no need for you to answer me, really. I'm just curious.' He said when Flash was about to open his mouth. Flash seemed thankful for that, and he supposed he was in a way. After all, he needn't to answer something that must be hard to say nonchalantly. They walked in silence for another few minutes, until they reached another door (that opened after Flash used his hand into some kind of tablet), and entered when it slid to one side. Inside there was what Peter guessed a scientific working on some… motorcycle? Huh.

'Agent Venom? Peter? What brings you here? Aren't you supposed to be training?' he asked, mildly concerned and mildly smiling. Flash shifted from one of his feet to the other, uncomfortable. 'Peter, is something wrong with Flash?'

He blinked in surprise, firstly because he didn't expect to be addressed to in such an informal way by the scientific. Secondly, because that man also was very aware that they both trained… for something he couldn't recall. After some seconds of thinking, he shook his head.

'I think the problem belongs to me, sir.' The man raised an eyebrow in suspicion, he guessed it had to do something with the way he addressed it. He remembered something, and he corrected himself. 'Connors?' it sounded more like a question, so by this point the other must be aware of whatever was going on. Doctor Connors looked at Flash now, concern all plastered in his countenance.

'How much?'

Flash shrugged. 'Apparently since the spider incident. He doesn't remember anything since he was admitted into Midtown.' Connors eyed him confused. Then he went to the other side of the room, and passed a door. Flash did a gesture for him to follow Connors. Peter did as he was told, and found himself in some kind of infirmary wing. With his hand, Connors gestured for him to sit on one of the hospital beds. Flash entered into the room a few seconds after him and stood beside him. Peter wondered why the apparent unconditional support, but he guessed if they both went to the same school and graduated and became friends, then he would help him until they knew whatever was going on, right?

He went and stood in front of him with a syringe and a test tube. 'This will hurt only a little, I have to do some blood tests and some other tests to know what's happened to you. Are you OK with that?' Peter nodded, and felt a sting when the syringe entered into his vein. He felt surreal when it started to suck into his blood. He vaguely remembered he wasn't to look into the syringe so it wouldn't feel so bad and stared at the scientific in front of him. He realised all the things he did, he did them with only an arm, and eyed the place where the other was supposed to be. A sudden pang of guilt spread through his entire body, and he gazed at the floor.

'Sorry.' He mumbled, and for some strange reason Connors seemed to know what he was apologising for.

'It was my decision. Either that, or you would have died.' He said, and even though that was supposed to make him feel better, it only left a bitter taste in his mouth. He nodded, and feigned tranquillity. 'Do you remember it?'

His answer was automatic. 'No. But it feels like it was related to me.'

Before Connors could answer him the test tube was full and he had to retreat it. He went to a centrifuge and positioned the test tube in it. Then he went to Peter and eyed him like someone looks an experiment, like every doctor eyes every patient.

After Peter could ask whatever was wrong with him the door opened and a dark skinned man entered through it. The first thing Peter noticed was that he was bald, and that he had an eye patch covering one of his eyes. He seemed surprised but also in control of the situation. Peter wondered who he was, and how he could look so powerful and in control of the situation and why he had the need to bend on his knees and reverence him.

'Doctor Connors. Patriot told me to come here right away. Can someone explain to me what is going on?'

Connors made a bow with his head, and seemed kind of sheepish. 'Director Fury, good morning. We suspect that Peter is… has developed some kind of selective amnesia.'

Fury looked at him, and he got an uneasy feeling by it. 'Is it true, Spiderman?'

Peter blinked a few times, truly confused. 'Spider… man, sir?

Fury seemed to understand it. 'My name is Nick Fury, I am the director of this whole place. You are inside the trikelion, an aeronautic plane developed to maintain anonymous our organisation. Have you heard about S.H.I.E.L.D., kid?'

'Not even once, sir.' Nick Fury didn't seemed faced by his lack of knowledge.

'It is an acronym for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Have you ever heard of it?'

'It sounds… mildly familiar.'

Connors came back, looking even more concerned than before. 'Hey, Peter. Can you… crawl into the wall, please?' he asked, and Peter eyed him like he had asked him to jump from a brink. Fury looked at the scientific interested from it, but didn't comment on it.

Peter stared at the wall besides him, and confused, positioned a hand on the wall, then the other. When he was about to position his last feet into it, he fell backwards, alarming both Flash and Fury. Connors looked like he had been slapped in the face, but not surprised.

'Just what I thought.'

'What was supposed to happen?' Asked Peter, with one of his hands massaging his muscles. Flash neared the wall and did what he tried to do, but unlike him, he could stick into the wall.

'This, Peter.'

The brunette didn't comment on it and looked confused at both Connors and Director Fury.

'What exactly is in his blood?' inquired Fury, afraid of whatever the science man could tell him.

'There's nothing there shouldn't be there, sir. No parasites, no excess of iron or red cells… no spider venom.' Fury opened his eye, like he had been told his death day. Then he looked at him like he was the cause of his future and hypothetic death. Flash seemed to pale, but didn't comment on it. After some seconds, Peter realised it was more that he couldn't talk. Nick got close to him and aimed a punch. Something told Peter to avoid it and he did it, barely. He felt something inside of him anger as well as a feeling of scariness.

'What was that for?!' He barked, knowing it wasn't polite and him being on a high position wouldn't be talked like that, but he just… couldn't hold his tongue.

'He seems to still have his spider senses.' pointed Nick after rolling his eyes and concentrating on Connors.

'It looks more like the training he's been put into what saved his eye,' Connors retaliated shaking his head. 'I just… it doesn't make any sense. It looks like his body erased every single evidence of him being Spiderman, even to erase his memory.'

Fury nodded. 'I still had faith it weren't that. Agent Venom, do you recall some enemy trying to take his powers away?'

'Besides Octavius and Mister Osborn? I highly doubt there was anyone capable of erasing his memory _and_ taking his powers away. Octopus hasn't showed since the Grad day and in the current time Mister Osborn doesn't bare an ill will against Spiderman. So I have no idea who could it be.'

'What about Mysterio?' asked Connors, intrigued.

'He couldn't. His speciality is hypnosis, not science. He might be able to rip his memory, but I doubt highly he could take his powers, let alone erase them from his blood. Also, he's in one of the prisons, he couldn't have escaped from it.'

Fury seemed to think really hard the situation. After some minutes of thinking it, he sighed and looked at Flash like he was his only hope.

'Agent Venom, go look for Patriot. Tell him to take Mister Parker to Oscorp, and tell them to fetch Norman Osborn. Fill them both with his current status, and tell them they are to run tests on Parker.'

'Why can't I just… swing Peter to Oscorp and that's it? I don't feel it necessary to go take Patriot from his classes just to see Daddy.' Peter noticed a bitter tone on the way Flash talked, and he guessed whoever Patriot was, he wasn't really an acquaintance of his.

'I am not asking for your opinion, Agent Venom. It's an order, and you have to fulfil your duty as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and as a friend of Mister Parker. I am telling you this because you also have to fill in May Parker with this, after you both take Mister Parker to Oscorp. Is that clear?'

'Crystal, sir.'

He bowed his head and stared at Fury. Fury then looked at Connors. 'Keep me updated if something in his blood changes, or if there is any trace of venom left in his blood. I wouldn't want to lose a soldier as good as him.' Connors nodded and bowed with his head. Fury stared at the three of them. 'I am retiring now, you can go on your mission and get everything done. I wish you luck, soldiers.'

After bidding farewell to Connors both, Peter and Flash exited the room. They both walked through a corridor for some minutes until they reached a room barely labelled as 'Teaching room.' It looked so plain it almost made Peter grimace. Flash opened the room, interrupting someone with a costume with a similar fashion to Flash's, specifically the spider on the chest area. Even though he was a fair distance from them, and had a mask covering his face, Peter could clearly see he was pissed off at being interrupted.

'Sorry to disturb your class, Scarlet. We need Patriot, Fury's orders.' After rolling his eyes, the other nodded and gestured Harry to stand. Peter blinked at this. Harry was Patriot? What with those code names? Harry looked at them, obviously confused at being taken out of his totally interesting class.

'What happened?' he asked when Flash started walking to other part of the corridor. There were so many Peter was surprised they hadn't gotten lost yet. He guessed they had had much time to get used to whatever was there to be inside this place.

'We need to go to Oscorp and see your father.' Flash replied, entering in what Peter belatedly recognised as his room. From there, he went to a drawer he didn't know he had, and took a red-and-blue costume. He gave it to Peter, along with a mask. 'Change your clothing into this. We'll wait outside.'

'What's this for?' Asked Peter eyeing confused at his hands. Flash dismissed his question with a wave of his hand.

'Now's not the moment for questions. It is for your own security. Please do it.' Peter entered his room and started undressing, feeling mildly uncomfortable. After changing into what Flash asked him to, he exited his room and catch Flash midsentence. He looked at him approvingly (surprisingly enough he didn't get wrong the mask) and raised a thumb to prove it. 'Let's go now. Harry, you take Peter on the fly, I go swinging to the Oscorp building. Is that clear?'

'Why do we have to fly?' Flash looked like every word getting out of Peter's mouth was a bucket cold water against his back.

'We are on the trikelion, Fury told you that already. We are so up in the sky, not even planes are capable of getting to us.' Peter thought about just how high they had to be to not being able to be surpassed by the planes, and decided not to ask about it. 'Harry will take you to the Oscorp building, where we will reunite with Mr Osborn. I guess you recall him?'

'Yes, he is Harry's father, and a great scientific.'

Flash nodded, though he seemed reticent to agree on the last point. 'Yes, that's just perfect. I'll meet you both on the building. Is there something missing?'

'How will we get to the Oscorp building? Will we take a plane or something from here?'

Flash shook his head. 'Harry will give you a ride.'

Then he went to what Peter could only suppose was the exterior not before grabbing a jet-pack and launching himself into the sky.

'OK buddy, let's better get going. Just, take my hand or something and don't fret.'

'Why would I fret?' If he hadn't commented anything about the iron-made costume his friend wore, that probably meant he wasn't really surprised by whatever Harry would do. Maybe they could also take a jet-pack just like Flash did and get to safe floor and just…

Or they could start flying with some rockets that were on Harry's foot and fly in the sky. Just freaking perfect. For some weird reason, he didn't start screaming like he thought himself to do, and just closed his eyes to have a better feeling of the air going against his face. It was a relaxing sensation, and wondered why he couldn't be every single day in the air, just chilling and doing nothing besides jumping and going everywhere.

He opened his eyes, blinking and analysing the thoughts that just passed through his mind. Was that really a good idea? Staying his whole life in the air? Wasn't there something he needed to do before that?

'You OK Pete? Aren't you afraid or anything?' Peter shook his head, though he could barely move it, with it being forced with the wind and that.

'It actually is strangely relaxing. Like I belong here.'

'That's probably the best news I've heard from you the entire day,' admitted his friend and offered him what Peter could recall to be a sheepish laugh. It felt like Harry hadn't laughed in so many years.

Maybe that was the case. Peter had the feeling it was mildly true, and mildly his fault.

'We're almost at the Oscorp building, Flash. How are you?'

'I'm already there, I'm trying to enter.'

'Don't bother breaking anything. Dad has one window of the top floor open if I ever want to pay him a visit. Maybe you can use it without firing up the alarms.'

'Thanks for the memo. I'll take it in mind.' Peter didn't ask how he was able to contact with Flash even though he didn't look like he was holding a mobile phone, this just wasn't the strangest thing that happened in his day. They finally reached the building and entered through the window Harry very well mentioned. Harry took off his helmet and reached for Flash, who was waiting them both on a chair looking impatient. Harry opened the door and greeted his father.

When the older Osborn entered the other room, he found himself confused just by looking at none other than Agent Venom and Spiderman waiting in there.

'Peter?' He asked, raising an eyebrow. The teenager took off his mask and smiled shyly at him, almost as if he were afraid of doing it. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he hadn't seen him in so long? Who knows.

'Good evening, Mister Osborn. How have you been?'

Even before Norman could answer Flash proceeded to tell him about Peter's current situation. Norman's face seemed to change at every single word that left his mouth, thing that scare Peter but at the same time made him anxious. 'We need you to run tests on Peter, Mister Osborn, you are the only one that has the necessary equipment to do it.'

'But you are S.H.I.E.L.D., you also have the equipment.' Answered a confused Norman.

Flash nodded. 'I know this, sir. But I also know that with his current situation he wouldn't be all trusty with us. Maybe he could… I'm not really sure, maybe he would be more comfortable around people he knew before the spider incident. Also, you have the largest archive of info about Spiderman, his abilities and his weaknesses. It has to be you who does this. Could you please consider it?'

Norman seemed in a big dilemma. Peter could relate, not that he was in something as big as Mister Osborn, but he knew the feeling… for some reason.

'I'll run all the tests possible on him. He'll have to stay in the Oscorp building for the time being, and when I am over with the testing, I'll reach you and tell you. Does that seem fair to you?'

Flash nodded with his head. 'We appreciate it very much, sir. Thanks for accepting this we ask you.'

Both, Flash and Harry reached the window, not before hearing Norman bidding them farewell and telling them to take care. Then they were gone. Without their presence to make Peter feel any better, he suddenly felt like Mister Osborn was staring at his back, and even though neither of them started a conversation, it seemed like the man wanted to tell Peter something, something Peter wouldn't like.

'Come follow me, Peter. We have work to do.'

* * *

Come to think to it, I have no idea of what I'm doing here. Maybe I'm just… trying to write something I really needed to do. I haven't seen any single story of Peter having amnesia, let alone Parksborn and Parmson(?) in the same story (also, there isn't really people that ship Peter with Flash besides TASM fandom, something I think a shame, because in USM there's a lot of good and non-toxic material.), so here's my attempt to write some decent story of Spiderman, don't bash me please, I can barely cope with my language traumas and my over stressed being. You dropping a comment would be nice, whether you are into the ships I aforementioned, or not. I did not really put much innuendos of any of these in this chapter, and probably won't do until some future chapters, and some research about spider behaviour. I need it to confirm some theory of mine.

Bid you Farewell, and until next chapter. Also, thanks to my incredibly helpful beta, Princess Andrmeda, love you big sis!

―gem―


	2. Spiderman

It wasn't often when Harry and Flash were left alone. At least, not on their own will.

Flash was distant when it came to talk to Harry. The Osborn didn't retaliate or go against it, because he knew it wasn't really that he was mad at him. Or that he hated him.

It was, rather, hurting.

Because he was closer to Peter than Flash was.

There was an awkward silence, which neither of them were wistful to break. Fury's orders were pretty clear, at least until that point: leave Peter, talk to his aunt, probably ask his Dad whenever he had the results of the analysis of whatever Peter had, and get back to the triskelion. Two out of three things were checked, so they were on their way to get the third done.

Something kind of difficult, considering the lack of enthusiasm between both of them.

Once they reached the house of Aunt May, they both were eager to ring. Once they noticed the other wanted to ring the bell, they stopped short and between signs told the other it was okay and they could do it. At the end, Flash ended ringing and after some seconds of silence, the door was open, and the surprised face of Aunt May received both of them.

'Eugene, Harry! What a wonderful surprise!' she said, smiling after opening the door. 'What can I do for you guys?'

'Good evening, Aunt May.' answered Flash almost immediately, echoed by Harry. He then looked as though he was searching for the correct words to say. 'Um… we came… Fury asked us to have a conversation with you.'

Even though she was surprised, she nodded immediately and opened wide the door, and with one of her hands she told them to come in.

'May I serve you something? A snack? A drink?' came her voice from the kitchen. They sat in one of the couches and shook their heads.

'It isn't necessary, Aunt May. I am afraid we cannot stay longer than for what we have to talk about.' Even after the negative, the woman came with three glasses of lemonade, and ever reticent, they both took a glass and sipped a little. Harry coughed and sighed. 'Aunt May, there is something we need to tell you, it's… it's about Peter.'

The woman ached an eyebrow, mildly intrigued by the dark tone his voice held.

'Did something happen to him? Did he… is he injured?' both could easily notice her voice tone was completely controlled, and neither could decide whether that was a good sign or a bad sign.

'It's… more complicated than just an injury. He's… he's at my Dad's corp, getting analyzed.' those words only did bad to her already suspicious glare, and Harry stopped to regain his thoughts. 'I assure you that he is in good condition, he has no concussions, no cuts, no burns.'

'But… he's forgotten everything about being Spiderman.' Finished Flash seeing he wasn't just doing it. May glanced at Harry, asking with her sad blue eyes if what he was saying was true. Harry just glanced away, not being able to hold her conspicuous gaze.

She seemed repentantly lost in her own thoughts. Her brows were furrowed, and her lips were a thin line, and yet again, neither Harry nor Flash knew how to take that.

'We don't… this is something that took everybody by surprise. Only a few of us know about this. He… it wasn't something that accumulated from… we have no idea how it happened. I… went to wake him in the morning, and he didn't seem to recognize anything more besides a day prior entering Middle Town.'

All this information escaped from Flash's lips like it ran out of his mouth, unwilling to stay any longer inside. And even so, May didn't quite react. She just stood still, and looked at Flash dead in the eyes.

After what felt like ages of silence, Harry bit his lip, and sheepishly talked.

'I'm sorry, Aunt May. We… don't know how it happened, or who could have done it, but… we'll do whatever we can to help him cope with whatever happens. I'm really, really sorry and I…'

May Parker shook her head and wore a comforting smile. She then reached for his hand and grabbed it. 'It's ok, Harry. You couldn't know something like that would happen. You don't need to apologise, neither do you, Flash' she said as Flash opened his mouth to say something, without even having the need to look at him to know his very movement. 'I'm thankful you informed me about this, and let's hope for the best. After all, nothing, absolutely nothing, is truly forgotten.'

There was such a compelling force in her last statement that neither of them could deny her from her wistful thinking. If something, they both felt even a little motivated at this, something that she noticed and was grateful for. Trying to redirect their attention, she smiled sweetly and took a sip from her own lemonade.

'Now that we have that settled, why don't we chit-chat a little? You both look like you've seen a ghost.'

'Don't you want any details in the matter?' asked dumbfounded Flash, and almost immediately retreated from asking. May acted none the wiser, for she shrugged.

'Hmmm… probably, but it would do you both no good. Also, since Peter left to live in the triskelion, I have so little visitants. Would you like to humour an old and lonely lady?' she finally added, and Harry could almost notice that she acted unworried for the sake of them, just like she said. Not to press the matter any more that it already had been, he nodded and smiled a sheepish smile.

'I don't know if Peter told you this before, but MJ went on her first mission about two days ago…'

* * *

Peter stared at the mirror in front of him, at his shirtless self more precisely.

And it wasn't that he was scared at whatever he was looking at. He was just… impressed, by it. Without much thought, he slid one of his fingers unto one of his forearms, trying to decipher how he gained so many muscles.

Ok. He had noticed before, kind of. When he first dressed in that stupid costume, he noticed them, only briefly, and so had decided not to paid attention to it. However, now that he hadn't a time limit he just stood there and… tried to comprehend.

'Hey, Peter. How are you feeling?' came Norman's voice through the door whilst with one of his knuckles he knocked. Even without awaiting for an answer, the scientific came into the dressing room and inspected him. Peter glanced at the mirror again, not really sure what to say.

'Don't really remember having this many muscles. How… what did I do to have them? Perhaps I could keep doing it' he didn't remember where all this smugness towards Mr. Osborn came from, but he just said it, and judging by the way the brow in one of the man's eyes arched, it became something He was used to.

'That's what we were going to explain to you, I was just taking care of something quickly so I could give you my full attention. Are you ready?'

Peter nodded and before exiting the room he put on the upper part of the costume. Mr. Osborn walked around the corridors seeing like that kind of person that knew a place by heart (uh, he kind of did, considering he did as much as owning the company) and finally stopped in front of a door in which he inserted several codes before being granted access. He told him to follow inside, and so the teenager followed him.

'I think the last time I entered this file was in your grad day' admitted the scientist walking towards a computer and turning it on. 'Perhaps seven or eight months, so there's this chance that the information may be a bit outdated.'

'Information about what?'

'Your DNA, of course.'

Skipping the fact that Mr. Oborn sounded creepy and stalkerish with that kind of answer, Peter tried not to wander around the room. Something he failed miserably at after the first two and a half minutes of trying to stand still. He heard the sound of keys being pressed, and he kind of paid attention in case Mr. Osborn said something he needed to know, but besides that he just skimmed through the various specimens there were exhibited (which, mind you, weren't really more than eight jars) and finally returned by Mr. Osborn's side, looking at the computer that showed one hundred words per second.

'What is it you're looking for?' asked finally the teenager, seeing words and comprehending some of them, but not really finding the connection between most of them. Mr. Osborn, meanwhile, shrugged.

'An specific file. Perhaps is there where I could find the answer everybody is fretting over.'

Peter didn't tell him how funny was that Mr. Osborn said fretting being they were in… well, New York. It sounded so old fashioned, and so, so boring. Then stopped short for a second and considered his status, as well as the existence of the high sphere of society.

'Who's everyone, anyways? Aunt May? Uncle Ben? Flash, Harry… and who else?'

Just like everyone he's asked up 'till this point (i.e. Flash), he saw him grimace as though he drank all the juice from a sour lemon (or another failed grade from Harry, they were kinda the same). He was about to say that it wasn't really necessary if it was that much of people, he'd find it out eventually anyways.

'The whole world. Perhaps even more than that.'

The teenager couldn't help the laugh that exploded after that phrase.

'Pffff! Whole world? What am I? An actor? A renowned scientific with less than twenty?' He raised his hands before letting Mr. Osborn answer his rhetorical question. 'No offense. I know I am a prodigy with certain scientific issues, but for the whole world to know about me? No way.' Then he stopped for just a second, reconsidering the possibility and feeling how his brains might explode if he spoke his mind. 'Unless I worked here in OsCorp and, of course, found some interesting and never spoken-about stuff. That'd make sense, but by looking at you, it feels like it wasn't… at all.'

Norman shook his head. 'The former guess was the most accurate, actually.' Seeing the even more confused stance in the teenager, he sighed. 'I have a few videos I need you to look at. Come closer.'

Not sure of nor the topics neither the relevance it had in their former conversation, he did as he was told and scooped a few inches away from Mr. Osborn. Almost immediately the computer displayed a video taken from an action movie. It looked so real, Peter almost believed the scene: the supposedly enemies, the cops, the citizenry screaming from both being afraid and awed, and the broken buildings and…

… and the movements of the person with a suit alike his own.

Confused, he looked at himself. Yes, that indeed was the same costume. The question was… why was he acting in some (really realist) action movie? As far as he knew, he was never one for acting. He then eyed suspicious at Mr. Osborn, with more questions than before watching the video.

'Um… Stand man? I appreciate my life, thank you very much.'

'Stand man?'

'Yeah, I recognise my body when I see it but… I would never, never act as a double of someone. Specially if involves risking myself to death.'

Mr. Osborn seemed like he wanted to retaliate, but couldn't find the words. Seeing the indecision in him, Peter started to panic.

'This isn't a cut from an action movie, is it?'

'No, Peter. This is a record taken from the police department. Do you know something about Spiderman?'

'Hmm… well, Director Fury mentioned that name earlier. I thought it was a key name and I came to the conclusion that perhaps I could work there, whenever there was, but… fighting or whatever I was doing there? Never.'

Norman, yet again, seemed indecisive. God forbids, he looked like he was trying to change a bad grade from Harry just by glaring at it. Peter came to the conclusion that he might, in fact, lose his patience if he didn't understand the current situation, but at the same time, like he was telling himself to hold it up just a little… for his sake. Like he was training himself to be patient with Peter.

'Peter,' he began, one hundred serious and three thousand percent mysterious. 'Spiderman, is a hero. A person. Their friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.'

Fearing the answer he might get, Peter still answered 'so…?'

If there was any little percentage that Norman was missing in seriousness, he now gained it again.

'Peter, you are Spiderman.'

He knew Norman was going to say that. He didn't know how—perhaps it was the turn the conversation was taking, perhaps it was the spider logo in the Spandex suit he wore, perhaps it was this All mighty aura he wore, or perhaps it was neither of those—but somehow he just knew beforehand what Mr. Osborn was going to say.

And yet 'Who's the what now?'

Not even letting Mr. Osborn talk, he began laughing. 'Me? Normal boring Peter Parker, a hero? A Spiderman? What, I ate one hundred spiders and then bam! Superpowers.'

'Peter…'

'Don't get me wrong, Mr. Osborn, but this is…' he let out a breath he didn't know was holding. '…this is so fantastic to even be believable.'

'Peter…'

'And why everyone seems to know every single detail? Even Flash, Flash from anyone knows about this, and…'

'Peter, calm down.' this time, his voice wasn't leveled as though he was talking to a child, but it was enervating enough to get him to shush. 'This didn't happen altogether, little details went through eventually.'

'First things first, you didn't "eat one hundred spiders", a single radioactive spider bit you. It was something that cannot be repeated to another person, even if we tried.'

'Is that… why can't it be repeated? Is the spider dead?'

'Not precisely (I don't really know), but it was your DNA what worked diligently with the spider venom inflicted into your blood.'

Not entirely convinced, Peter nodded. 'For… for how long?'

'Longer that I've been studying you.'

Peter stared at him. And… stared. 'That doesn't truly answer what I was asking.'

Norman stood from his seat at the computer and started to exit the lab. 'Unfortunately I cannot tell you, Peter. Truth is, not even I am aware of your beginnings. Perhaps you were bitten back in an excursion, but I am not sure as to what happened after it, I cannot tell if the secondary effects were immediate, or if they happened weeks after. One thing I know is that you were keen on catching that man who…' he stopped short, looking at the younger one. He shook his head afterwards, disregarding his former thoughts. 'What matters is that you now don't do what you used to. We could perhaps reach a hypothesis, but it won't be the ultimate conclusion we have to reach. You say you cannot remember anything?'

Even if Peter knew he was being forbidden for apparently core information, he nodded, instead of trying to get it out of the man. 'I cannot say how much I don't remember, but I am aware of how much I am able to say. If it… helps or something.'

Norman nodded. 'It will have to be enough. If this were normal procedure, I would ask you if you didn't do anything yesterday that could have provoked this loss of powers, but truth is… this isn't a normal situation, and with your lack of memory, you cannot answer any question.'

The scientist proceeded to open the door. Peter felt like he needed to add something else, but he wasn't sure what. Anyway, what else could he add?

He sighed.

'What should we do now, Mr. Osborn?'

Norman shook his head.

'Apply more proves, and wait. It is the only thing I am able to grasp on. Can you think of something more?'

Peter thought about a hundred and one possibilities, but they reached no longer than that: possibilities. Neither of his thoughts were capable of being a solution that could satisfy either of the people surrounding him. And that same thought left a sour taste in his thongue, one he wished he could take away.

'I'd like… more information about Spiderman. Perhaps if I see more about him, I can remember something, doesn't matter how insignificant it can be.'

It was amusing, talking about himself like he was someone else—a stranger. It was just as equally disheartening, realising that the person he once was, it was but a mere stranger to him.

He blinked several times before telling himself those thoughts were useless now. Instead, he stared at Mr. Osborn, waiting for his final answer.

'I think I have some more videos about Spiderman, but I think you'll also have to ask S.H.I.E.L.D. to handle to you some of them. J. Jonah has also some videos, but I can get those for you.'

'That's more than I could ask for, thanks.'

'We just want you to come back to us, Peter.'

He knew that by us he spoke for several people he was yet to know—or remember, he wasn't entirely sure how to entitle the situation.

'I assure you, Peter. There is so many people that love you, and that want you to be safe.'

His mind traveled to what felt like weeks ago, and he remembered how many people he could count on. Harry, MJ, Aunt May, Uncle Ben and perhaps one or two teachers. Besides that… he wasn't able to remember anybody else (excluding Mr. Osborn because he barely knew him). Most people in school made fun of him, and some few teachers weren't precisely ideal.

But if these people he apparently did know told him he was loved, these people that knew more about him than he did himself, then he just had to trust them.

He smiled, and nodded.

* * *

Aaaaaaaand this ended somehow saddening. Oh boi, apparently I'm incapable to sticking with the humor that remains in Ultimate Spiderman. I wanted to but I can't.

Hey! I know I'm late, like... _real_ late, but at least I didn't let this on Hiatus. I am trying to write again, these past months have been full of things to do, and it was impossible for me to concentrate on writting something that I liked. I hope the next chapter will come sooner than this one did.

Babye!


End file.
